Save the Last Dance for Me
by I.Dream.Of.Hardyz
Summary: Spin off and story for 'I Want You to Need Me'.  Alone and very upset, can a dream fix it all? According to Camille, no. Alex always did say she was a pain in the ass. Alex/OC.


**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Author's Note:** I really wanted to write another part to 'I Want You to Need Me' but thought it would be too sappy for the story if I added it. Instead of another sappy part to the story, I made a spin off story I thought would be cute and I hope it also makes you cry like the first one did, lol. Enjoy!

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Camille yawned as she rolled over, looking at Alex's face. He looked calm yet exhausted and she sighed, realizing just how weak he actually was. While Alex still attempted to pretend he wasn't sick, she knew just how sick he was. Crawling forward, Camille leaned onto the tent bed and poked him. When he didn't respond, she frowned.

"Alex." Camille whispered into his ear, hoping for him to smile at her. When he didn't move, her heart raced just a little. "Alex!"

He slowly moved. "What?"

His expression made her laugh. "You scared me."

Alex smiled a little, and one side went up of his face. "You're not rid of me yet, Cammie."

Resisting to smack him, she rolled her eyes. "Are you up for eating?"

"No." He looked outside. "It's still dark, Cammie."

"I know." Camille sighed. She had actually hoped he was up for more than just eating, but seeing how hard it was just for him to sit up, she realized it was another warm day spent in their little tent. While the doctors and many others said how dangerous this was, she only put up her middle finger… they didn't know Alex and they didn't realize just how he planned on dying from cancer.

A few painful hours later, Alex attempted more sleep while Camille listed to the rain fall outside. In her mind, she saw a perfect night of dancing with Alex one last time. It was a little ridiculous, maybe, but just as Alex had his last wish, she had hers for him and a little for herself.

**Save the Last Dance for Me**

A few days later, Camille woke up first once more and again yawned. It was a warm summer day and even she had to smile, something she found harder to do everyday when she looked at her boyfriend. A good warm day meant for a better day for everyone. Rolling over, Camille was ready to wake up Alex when she noticed a little died blood on his nose. When she went to wipe it, more alarm was sent through her… Alex was cold.

"Alex… wake up," she demanded on a soft voice. "Alex!"

Alex didn't smile this time. Alex didn't move. He was lying on his side, where his arm was still near hers.

"Alex," she muttered. "Alex… no, please."

While Alex did seem more tired yesterday, she never imagined… no! Shaking him violently, pitiful tears escaped her eyes and she heard herself start to sob. Feeling like Rose from Titanic, calling for a man that would never return, her insides melted inside, and she felt weak this time. Continuing to call a name which wouldn't return the gesture, until a neighbor grew concerned, Camille felt sick as they called the hospital for an ambulance. When it arrived, Alex was far gone.

**Save the Last Dance for Me**

Another long day at work made Camille ready for a return to her bed as she drove home. If she remembered, it was exactly six months since she lost him tonight. Six long months and she kept her promise of never moving on. Ever since he died, a part of Camille felt dead as well. While his wish was kept, hers still sat alone. A part of her ached for one more day, one more moment with him; just a chance for her to say just how much she really cared… something told her no one said it enough to him.

"Camille, goodnight," a voice said as she walked from the place and in her mind, she answered. What did it even matter anymore? Exhausted and alone, Camille missed him so much… why did he have to die and leave?

Driving alone was painful now, as she was always used to his commentary on every problem or conversation. Sometimes she imagined him in the next seat, telling her off for no reason. As she drove past his old apartment building, another sigh escaped. Just somehow, Camille hoped he knew just how much she missed him today.

Looking up just in time for her heart to nearly stop, Camille skidded to the side, crashing into another parked car. As her exhausted head spun, Camille walked slowly around the car and looked around. A smiling face greeted her. Camille felt sick. "Am I dead?" she asked. "I can't… you can't… it's not possible."

"Cammie," it laughed. "Just shut up and kiss me."

"It's not possible," she repeated almost an hour later when she followed him to his old apartment. She kept checking her head for bumps or any kind of sign she died and was sitting in her own personal heaven. Instead, she found nothing but the most amazing man on the planet.

He continued laughing at her, as he probably would if this happened. If this was possible to happen and actually was happening in front of her.

"Would you stop looking at me as if you're seen a ghost?" Alex asked. "Fuck."

"Don't you fuck me," she snapped.

"Oh?" His smile was amused.

"Oh, fuck you." Camille rolled her eyes.

He stood in front of her and pulled her forward into a kiss. It was a moment she had ached over for months and the moment alone was enough to send her onto the floor, weak in her knees. She never imagined a moment like that, but when you loved someone as much as she did, and saw him at his worst, it made her want to fall on the floor, and she did.

Alex laughed at her tears. "You're too funny," he muttered. "Cammie, what is the matter?"

"You died!" she shrieked.

"And what was that like?" he murmured. "Sounds fun. Did I crash into a car, or did someone stab me? I always pictured someone stabbing me when I died. I never imagined living long or something, and I pictured a pretty damn awesome death." He grinned. "I'm playing, stop looking at me like that. I didn't die, Cammie. I don't really know why you're upset, but God, come on; we have tickets to that show tonight."

"Show?"

And at his show, Alex seemed fine. And the next day, he seemed fine. He didn't seem to have any memory of cancer or any memory of the last six months before he died, either.

"I don't understand," she whispered to him. "You died."

"You're crazy." He kissed her. "Fucking crazy."

"I'm not crazy." She stood up. "Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't die, Alex. Right now."

He looked away and that smiling face faded. "Cammie…"

"Don't Cammie me."

"I wanted you happy for a few days, fuck!"

Cammie was surprised. "So, did I die?"

"No, Cammie. You didn't die." Alex stood up and with dark eyes; he pushed her down on the bed. "I died six months ago on this day and fuck, Cammie, I didn't want you miserable. I can't stand seeing you so upset… it kills me!" He stopped. "Well, without a pun, obviously. FUCK!" He growled. "You look miserable."

"What did you expect?" she snapped. "For me just to carry on with my life and pretend I never loved you, never sat with you those last few days and saw you die before my eyes because fuck, Alex, I can't carry on and pretend I didn't see all of that… I love you more than any words can say, and I just want you. No one is any comparison and I'm not moving on no matter what you say."

He looked desperately at her with sad eyes. "I died, Cammie. It's time for you to move on and live your fucking life! What are you planning to do? Stay miserable until you die six fucking years from now? It's not fucking right!"

"Why can't someone just kill me?" she asked. "Maybe I should just walk the streets at night and see what assholes want in my pants! Or maybe I'll just stop my car in traffic one day. OR, maybe I'll…"

"_Stop_!" he yelled. "Fucking stop it!"

"_What do you want from me_?" she whispered. "I won't move on."

He was furious and began to slam things around the apartment. "You are currently dying, Cammie. It's not an easy thing to do. You were in a car accident and you're losing a lot of blood and you're life is seeping away as the doctors attempt to stop the internal bleeding inside of you. You won't die because I won't let you. I control all of this. I'm telling you right now, I want you to move on and live the life you were given because what you're doing now isn't honoring me like you think it is, it's shitting on everything I stood for."

"I won't move on." She stood in front of him. "I'm sorry."

Alex sighed and slowly, his image faded until she was in a hospital room, holding onto the side of the bed. While there was pain in her head, she knew she was okay. Alex wouldn't allow otherwise. A doctor with a bad haircut smiled down at her, and in her head, she saw Alex snicker.

"You're okay, you're in a hospital."

"I'm aware."

After a few minutes, the doctor left and Camille was alone. "It's the same thing, Alex," she said, wondering if he could hear her. "And nothing will change because I still want you to need me."

A letter fluttered down in front of her, and Camille sighed.

"A letter, really?"

_I thought if you spent a few days with me, you'd finally see you're okay without me… just be okay, okay?_

A few days passed, and Camille was allowed to leave the hospital and looked around. It was a warm day for what should've been a cold day, and somehow, she felt as if he was mocking her all the way wherever he was. Sitting down on a chair, she had no where to go. Without her car, she would have to walk home and without money, this was her only way home.

Just as she went to stand up, someone stood up in front of her, holding a gun. It was pointed at her, and the man demanded her money. "I don't … I don't have any money," she whispered, actually fearing for her life. He just shook his head and suddenly, a loud popping noise made her close her eyes, and she didn't feel her own body hit the floor hard as it did.

It was another warm day, and she found herself sitting in the tent. Alex was once more next to her, and she frowned. "Again, really?"

"What?" he sat up slowly, and winced at the pain. "What?"

"You're really putting me through this again, Alex? You saw it didn't help me any yesterday."

He groaned as another pain shook him. "What?"

Something in his eyes said he really didn't know what she was talking about and Camille frowned. "What day is it?"

"Some day in July, Cammie."

A piece of paper near the blanket made her frown, and she picked it up. _It's as close to your wish as you will get. Make it count._

Camille bit down on her lip. While she didn't know how long it was going to last, she had the Alex she always loved, and the chance she never took. Maybe it was what actually she needed instead of the Alex before the cancer she saw. He stared at her, at her frowning face. "Alex, do you want to dance?"

"Cammie, there is no music and fuck, I don't dance."

"I don't care." She stood up, and put her hand toward his with a smile. "You love me, right?"

"Right," he said carefully, as he was helped up.

"Just do it for me then," she whispered, and led him onto the dance floor. Dance floor? Cammie shrugged. It was still a warm day in summer, and she was still… in a dress? _Just give me a dress, and I'll be your mess in a dress_, she once said in the hospital. A choked laugh followed this. He only smiled at her, still surprised, and danced along to a song she once remembered was her favorite. As the song continued, her smile widened, and Alex seemed well.

Minutes passed, and when the song ended, Alex was back to looking weak and very exhausted.

"Cammie," he whispered, and he fell to the ground.

Cammie woke on her bed, feeling very nauseous. While there wasn't any signs of any kind of injury, her head was pounding loudly but the ache she woke up with every day was gone. And sitting on the bed next to her was another letter and this one said one simple thing for her to read and cry over.

_I love you, and I always will, Cammie_, it only said._ Save the last dance for me_.

Camille smiled and laughed a little. "And you always said you weren't a sap."

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